


Feeling Young And Reckless

by Darquesse (demonicweirdo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nerd Castiel, Oblivious Castiel, Recreational Drug Use, Sweet Dean, Teen Romance, Tutor Castiel, Underage Drinking, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3319523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonicweirdo/pseuds/Darquesse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way Dean's eyes darted around the classroom intrigued Cas, reminded him of a cornered animal. He looked completely out of place and he knew it, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeling Young And Reckless

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just gonna say, I don't read Destiel fic often, and this is the first one I've written, so if it's slightly OOC I am so sorry :/ but I do like the tutor tropes, amiright? Haha I hope you guys enjoy :)

“That ain't me, that ain't my face. It wasn't even me when I was trying to be that face. I wasn't even really me them; I was just being the way I looked, the way people wanted.” -Ken Kesey,  _One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest_

**15 March**

* * *

Castiel notices everything.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. He notices more than people would expect, though. The quiet ones always do.

So of course he noticed when the new kids came to town. He had heard talk for two days about the kid in the leather jacket with the Impala, and he noticed, because it seemed worth noticing.

The girls were gossiping about him before he even arrived at school. Cas knew how these things worked. They'd build him up, the new kid, and then the new kid would either disappoint them and be shunned with the losers or the goths, or he'd meet their expectations and become one of the popular jocks.

Cas noticed when he walked into the classroom, as well.

The first bell had already rung, and the students in Cas' homeroom were talking quietly among themselves about their weekends and their parties and things Cas could only imagine experiencing. So he hunched over his book, trying to block out everyone.

“Guys, you have a new classmate. His name is Dean Winchester.”

Cas snapped his head up to look, to glimpse the guy who had been the talk of the town since he drove in.

Dean was... complicated. Light hair, green eyes, a vintage leather jacket and some pendant that reminded Cas of some Egyptian deity charm he'd read about in history books.

He was smirking confidently to the teacher that had just escorted him in, but his shoulders were slumped, his fingers tapping against his leg nervously. The way his eyes darted around the classroom intrigued Cas, reminded him of a cornered animal. He looked completely out of place and he knew it, too.

He gave the class a lopsided grin, his green eyes crinkling at the corners. It disappeared just as quickly, and he sauntered off to the empty desk behind Cas.

Cas refrained from turning around in his seat to stare at Dean. He stayed hunched over his book, reading over the sentence until he could concentrate on the story again. 

* * *

 

Dean wasn't too enthusiastic to be at school again. It used to be a second priority to whatever job John had going on, and suddenly Bobby was telling him if he wasn't going to school, he wasn't living under his roof no longer.

Of course, Bobby was lying, and Dean knew that he would never kick him out, but some small part of him was terrified into submission, and he allowed Bobby to sign him up.

So when Dean walked into his homeroom, he was completely unprepared for the assault of normalcy. The thought that continuously ran through his mind was _I have to commit to this_. There was no John to pull him out after two weeks so he could catch his latest bounty.

A few faces stood out from the crowd of classmates. The blue-eyed, dark-haired guy who was tilting his head at Dean as if he were a particularly confusing puzzle (which was simultaneously flattering and unnerving), a red-haired girl who grinned cheekily and gave him a friendly wink from the front row, and the dude with the mullet and the plaid, who sat in the middle of the class and didn't seem too interested in Dean, or the people around him.

Dean sat behind the blue-eyed guy, next to the mullet dude, and stayed quiet until the bell rang. The guy in front of him had his shoulders hunched in, as if he didn't want anyone to acknowledge him or talk to him, and the mullet guy was frowning and peering at the book he was reading.

But as soon as the bell rang, the mullet guy jerked his head up and snapped his book shut at the same time, his eyes darting around the class briefly, before resting at Dean. He looked surprised, as if he had noticed Dean at all, and Dean tried to not take offence by that.

“Dude, I didn't see you. You the new kid?”

Dean nodded and stuck his hand out. “Dean,” he offered.

The kid grinned and shook his hand. “I'm Ash. Welcome to Sioux Falls.” He stood up and Dean followed suit. The rest of the class were filtering out at a leisurely pace.

“So, where do you hail from, Dean?” Ash frowned. “Wait, let me guess – you come from a small-ish community, but you travel a lot. Am I right?” he asked with a smug grin.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “I'm a little creeped out,” he admitted.

Ash laughed. “You just seem the type. I gotta shoot, but I'll track you down at lunch, show you 'round?”

Dean shrugged. “Got nothing better to do.”

Ash finger-gunned him and walked down the corridor. Dean took out the printed schedule in his pocket and peered at it. It wasn't very helpful.

By the time lunchtime crawled around, three teachers had tried to force Dean to spill his life story to a disinterested group of teenagers, four girls had given him their numbers, and he had been offered some weed in the boy's bathroom. Which he politely (and reluctantly) declined.

He had a brief moment of panic that Ash wouldn't find him and he would be stuck wandering around the school awkwardly, by himself, when someone threw a hand across his shoulders.

Dean jumped and turned his head to see Ash grinning at him. “Right, Dean-o. _La Tournee par Ash._ The school or the students?”

Dean frowned. “Uh... the school?”

Ash nodded. “Both. Right, over here – by the water fountain – you'll see them football jocks in their natural habitat. They like to scare off the freshmen and sophomores from having a drink because they have piss-for-brains. Not really my scene. And there – that table is the the cheerleading girls. A group of hot, fiery, passionate women. Never too far from the jocks.” Dean glanced at where he was pointing, a group of girls laughing and talking to themselves, snickering at the group of boys who were dicking around with the water fountain. They all burst out laughing when one of the boys, with an obnoxious mohawk (Dean didn't even know those were still, if ever, fashionable) got shot in the face with a jet of water. He spluttered and stumbled back into his friend, and Dean huffed in amusement.

But then his eye was drawn to a smaller cafeteria table to the right of the fountain, where one lone guy sat, the blue-eyed one, reading a book in his lap while biting into an apple. He looked completely lost in his book, and Dean found it... interesting. He didn't seem fazed by the fast-paced world around him, seemingly content to just read.

Ash stopped mid-sentence and frowned at Dean, and then glanced at where he was looking. “Dean? You listening?”

Dean turned back to him. “Who's he?”

Ash squinted at the guy. “Him? That's Cas,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he were just an accepted part of everyone's high school life.

“Cas?” Dean echoed. “Short for something?”

Ash shrugged. “Castiel Milton. Came here a couple of years ago. He's... he's got a few friends, though he's a bit of a loner. A lone wolf.” He looked very happy with that description. “He parades around in his sheep's clothing but he is pretty terrifying. You should see him in English class. Makes the rest of us look like fools.”

Dean nodded, tearing his gaze from Castiel. The name fitted him in the way that odd shaped things find a way to slot together.

“So, uh, where's the gym?” 

* * *

 

Cas looked up when he felt someone nudge at his elbow.

Claire Novak rolled her eyes at him. “I've been sitting here for two minutes, nerd.”

Cas shrugged and closed his book. “I'm not apologising.”

Claire grinned at him and stole his pudding cup, twirling it in her hands. “That new kid was totally checking you out,” she commented.

Cas frowned. “Dean?”

“Oh, so you're on first-name basis with him, huh?”

Cas squinted at Claire, who was smirking, before frowning at his hands. “I'm uncomfortable with these implications.”

Claire laughed. “Dude, he is the hottest dude to walk these corridors. I'll have some if you won't.”

Cas sighed. “Your father wouldn't approve.”

Claire smiled. “Oh, I don't know... I saw him dropping his little brother off to school and he seems really sweet. There were hugs and everything. Dad would be happy I'm hanging out with boys with family values.”

“Hey, losers. What are we talking about?” Charlie sang out, sitting to the other side of Cas.

Cas frowned, feeling closed in and crowded as Jo walked up a few steps behind her. “Nothing,” he replies.

Charlie grinned and plucked his book from his lap, batted his hands away when he tried to reach for it, and flicked through it. “Oh, this looks interesting. Asylums are the best.”

Jo smirked at her. “If you like them so much, I'd be happy to help you get committed to one.”

Charlie pulled a face and handed him back his book. “So have you heard? Krissy's tutoring cello. So now is your chance to exercise that musical genius we all know is in there, Cas.”

Cas shook his head. “I am terrible with instruments, Charlie.”

Claire nodded solemnly. “It's true. Once he tried to play my guitar and he broke it.”

Charlie opened her mouth to reply when Jo touched her arm gently. “Ash is hanging out with the new guy.”

“That Dean guy? Would've thought he'd be hanging with the smokers or the jocks by now.”

Jo shrugged. “Apparently not. Oh, and Cas? Fitz wants to see you after lunch, in your free period?”

Cas nodded and ducked his head, opening his book up again and focusing on the words. His friends talked around him, but he didn't mind the chatter, and they didn't mind that he wanted to read in their company.

Mr Fitzgerald was Cas' favourite teacher. He was goofy and geeky and fun, but he also analysed stories with depth that no one else could achieve.

Of course, when Cas knocked on the door to his classroom after lunch, he was playing around with a sock puppet.

“Castiel! Come in, don't be shy, man.”

Cas cleared his throat and tilted his head. “Are... Sir, did you... Are we going to play with sock puppets?”

Fitz's face clouded over with confusion before he glanced down at his sock'd hand and laughed. “Oh, no. This is Mr Fizzles. Nah, I actually have some serious teacher duties to do. Could you take a seat?”

Cas sat at a front row desk and watched as Fitz slid the sock off his hand and shut it in a drawer.

“Look, Cas, I think you're awesome and all, okay? But the thing is, I need you to be awesomer.”

Cas suppressed a groan because for all of Fitz's competencies in analysis, he was terrible when it came to vocabulary. He imposed too much slang and neologisms in his speech, and it wasn't some _connecting with the youths_ kind of thing, it was just Fitz.

“There's a student in my next class, and I've looked over their file. You know the new kid, Dean? He's failing English.” Fitz spread his hands out defensively. “I'm not one to judge, you know? The kid has moved around a lot. And I may need to ask you to tutor him, so you can't judge, either.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at Fitz. “You want me to tutor him in English? How badly is he failing?”

Fitz shrugged. “He hasn't actually attended high school in about... ten months? He's behind in practically everything.” He leaned forward at his desk, folding his hands together. “Cas, if you don't want to do it, it's fine. I could get Sarah or Will to do it, I just thought you might appreciate the extra credit.”

Cas frowned, considering it. Which didn't take long. Dean interested him in a way that no other student has interested him in a long time. And, to be shallow, Dean was hot. It wouldn't exactly be an inconvenience to spend some time with him. Of course, Cas didn't know if the guy was complete asshole or not.

He looked back at Fitz, who was staring at Cas intensely. “Fine.”

Fitz grinned widely, and Cas hoped he wouldn't regret it. 

* * *

 

When Dean walked into English class, he was exhausted. Ash, while he was good company, talked. And Dean found out that Ash was _smart_. He was a fucking genius, and it took all that Dean had just to keep up with the guy.

Cas was in this class, sitting off to the side and twirling a pen between his fingers. When he spotted Dean, he gave him a small smile, so small Dean almost missed it. He wondered what it would look like, Cas with a full, wide smile on his face. The guy seemed so subtle that it was hard to imagine. Everything he did was small. His smiles, his movements, his frowns, and Dean was willing to bet money that his voice was soft and quiet.

But there was something about him, something in the way his eyes burned blue and bright, that made Dean think that Ash was on to something. A wolf's in sheep's clothing.

Thankfully there weren't many students in Dean's English class. He'd had enough of being crowded and stared at and whispered about, and it was hard to remind himself why he was doing this in the first place. He could've helped Bobby with his auto business, and if he was being honest with himself, that option was still open.

But it was Sammy. That kid looked up to Dean and Dean would be damned if he let him down. So, graduating high school shouldn't be too hard.

Dean walked up to the teacher's desk. Well, it looked like the teacher's desk, but the person sitting in the chair could've passed for a junior.

“Uh...” Dean glanced at the name on his schedule. “Mr Fitzgerald?”

The chair spun around and Mr Fitzgerald gave Dean a goofy grin as the students chatted quietly around them. “You must be Dean!” he greeted cheerfully. He narrowed his eyes. “I thought you'd be taller.”

Dean frowned at him. “Yeah... I need a syllabus,” he replied gruffly. He was tall. He was a perfect size. Well, okay, maybe his twelve year-old little brother was almost as tall as him now, but he was a normal height, Sammy was just a freak of nature.

Fitzgerald nodded and rifled around the mess of papers on his desk, before handing Dean the syllabus. “And you can call me Fitz.” Fitz paused. “Also, I've done a little digging around, and your school record states you're behind in English.”

Dean shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Uh, yeah, I guess,” he mumbled, shooting a look over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. Which they weren't.

Fitz gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I've got you a tutor, don't worry. Speak to me after class.”

English class did nothing to improve Dean's mood. He almost gave up in the middle and flipped his desk in a childish tantrum, but Fitz didn't call on Dean, didn't ask him any questions, didn't expect any answers. Dean was starting to like this guy.

It was clear that, after a year of his father carting Dean and Sam around the country, Dean was out of his depth. He hadn't been enrolled in a school for longer than he cared to admit, and he had never even read _One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest_.

Once the bell rang, which, thankfully, meant the end of school, Dean hurried to Fitz's desk, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, since he had to pick Sam up.

Fitz peered behind Dean, and Dean looked back to see Cas walking towards him.

He turned back to Fitz, who grinned. “So, Dean, this is Castiel Milton. He's going to tutor you for my class.”

Dean sucked in a breath, wondering what it was, exactly, that made him so nervous about the situation, before turning around and giving Cas his practised lopsided grin and holding out his hand, as if he were a witness Dean had to charm for information, or a girl he had to flirt with to find the location of her missing father.

Cas took it and tilted his head slightly, squinting at Dean. He shook his hand firmly, but didn't say anything.

Dean raised his eyebrows at his silence. “When do we start?”

“Tomorrow. After school, my place,” Cas replied, as if he had thought it through. Dean frowned. Though he didn't want anyone around Bobby's, not anyone he didn't know or trust, he was a bit put out that he wasn't given the choice.

A second look at Cas's assessing eyes, and Dean shrugged it off. “Sure. It's a date.” Dean winked, expecting a flush or a frown, but Cas's eyes only narrowed. He really couldn't flirt his way through this.

* * *

**16 March**

* * *

 

Cas didn't _fuss_. He left his room slightly disorderly, and didn't bother to make special snacks or whatever. He wasn't in preschool.

So why Becky was going to all this trouble, he had no idea.

When he asked her, she just ruffled his hair. “Come on, Cassy. You have a new friend! Your social life is growing, the least I can do is give the kid some food,” she chirped.

Cas suppressed a sigh and checked the time on his phone, just as he heard the deep rumble of an old engine. Obviously Dean's famous Impala.

There was a short knock on the door and Becky shot Cas an excited look, which he countered with a flat one. She disappeared and Cas heaved himself from the couch, going to the door and opening it.

“Surprise,” Dean gasped out. The first thing Cas registered was the smell, and then the dark splotches over Dean's arms and face. He was covered in oil and grease stains, and his skin was damp with sweat.

Cas frowned, even as he felt the blush creep in. “You're late,” he told Dean.

Dean let out a breathless laugh. “Car broke down on the way. Can I...” He peered around Cas into the house. “Could I clean up somewhere?”

Cas nodded and stepped aside, letting Dean in and hoping to God that his Chuck had left for work already.

“ _I am a God!_ ”

Dean paused and frowned, tilting his to the right.

Cas sighed. “That's Chuck. Bathroom is down the hall, second door on the left.”

Dean nodded, and flashed Cas that familiar smile, the one that never lit up his eyes. Charming, but Cas could see through it. And then he walked down the hall, just as Chuck appeared from the kitchen.

“Cas! I've just created the nicest cake. It puts all my other cakes to shame.”

Cas sighed. “That's great.”

Chuck beamed. “Better than Martha. Where... uh, where is Becky?”

“She thinks hovering parental figures will scare my friends away, so she's writing.”

Chuck frowned. “Huh. I should, uh... Yeah, I'm going to go to the store,” he said. Cas tried to hold back the look of pity that he was sure was showing on his face, but Chuck had turned around anyway, so he didn't see it.

Chuck and Becky, Cas' foster parents, had to be the weirdest couple Cas had ever met. They fell in love at a writing convention, except Becky got published and Chuck... didn't.

Dean walked back into the living room, looking significantly cleaner and Cas didn't know whether to feel pleased or disappointed.

“So... what? Am I learning by osmosis? I can't read this book in time.” Dean didn't sound sullen and moody, he sounded like he believed what he was saying.

“You have no faith,” Cas responded, gesturing for them to sit at the table, where he had the year's work.

Dean sat down and narrowed his eye's at Cas, ignoring the spread of papers in front of him.

Cas raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. Just... Yeah, so be my Yoda,” he said, spreading his hands and smiling at Cas.

Cas ducked his head and peered at the syllabus. There was something about this guy, this boy, that made him feel as though he was walking on ice. One wrong move, he drowns. Cas didn't know why this feeling was so exhilarating. Sure, the guy was attractive. But when he smirked or flirted with Cas, there was that undeniable feeling that Dean was just going through the motions.

But when he smiled like _that_ , well, Cas finally got to experience the expression of butterflies in his stomach.

“I'll just tell you what happens in each chapter, and you can read a chapter each night. If we cram it, then you should finish your studying before the exam.”

Dean visibly paled. “When's this exam?”

Cas allowed himself to smile at Dean, hoping it was reassuring. “A few months away.”

Dean didn't look reassured. “Right. Yeah. I can do it.” He clapped his hands together. “Preach on.”

* * *

 

**23 March**

* * *

“What do you mean, he's an unreliable narrator? He literally hears _everything_ in the hospital. And sees everything.”

Cas didn't sigh, or roll his eyes, or anything else that Dean would've expected from someone who had to put up with Dean's questions. In fact, Cas looked like he was getting into the discussion, enjoying it. “Bromden was insane. He couldn't discern reality from madness, and his unhealthy hero-worship of McMurphy biased his thoughts and narrations.”

Dean scrunched his nose up, narrowing his eyes at Cas. But Cas looked so... _lit up_ that Dean just _had_ to give up the argument and grin at Cas.

Cas smiled hesitantly back at Dean, his brow still furrowed in a paradoxical frown, as if he didn't realise why he was smiling back. It was adorable, Dean had to admit.

It had been a week already, a week of tutoring Dean, a week of after-school dates, and Dean had given up on the flirting. He hadn't even realised he had been doing it until he noticed that every time he made a suggestive comment or a smug smirk, Cas would give him a thoughtful look, but when Dean joked around, when he was being _genuine_ (even though he thought he had forgotten how to be genuine after everything that he had been through), Cas would smile, his little private smile that felt like some rare, precious thing. Seriously, the dude was _way_ too serious.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Okay, you win. But before you tackle me with some other complicated idea, can we take a break?”

Cas tilted his head, before nodding. “Sure. You want a drink?” he asked, closing the book and standing up.

Dean shook his head and grinned. “How about we go to the Roadhouse? I heard they make a mean burger.”

Cas frowned. “I don't know...”

Dean tried the puppy-dog eyes. They weren't as good as Sam's, Lord could that kid get his own way if he wanted, but he could see Cas relenting, his shoulders sagging.

Dean grinned and grabbed his jacket. Bobby had been singing Ellen Harvelle's burger's praises all week, and Dean was not one to let a burger go uninvestigated.

Though he didn't say it out loud, Dean knew Cas was doubtful about riding in the Impala. Which Dean was slightly offended by, when Cas wrinkled his nose.

“Dude, she's a smooth ride. She won't break down on us again.”

Cas raised his eyebrows, but got in the car, running a hand across the dashboard. “It's a beautiful car,” he stated distantly.

Dean nodded and started the engine. “Gotten me through a shitload, this car.”

Cas turned to look at Dean. “Where did you get it from?”

Dean's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “My dad. He, uh... he gave it to me.” Dean took a breath and smiled at Cas. “So, what exactly is the _Combine_? Is it, like, a secret government conspiracy or something?” 

* * *

 

Cas noticed it. Dean wasn't very subtle when it came to subject changes, and his father seemed to be a sore subject with him. Cas understood. After all, Chuck and Becky weren't his _real_ parents. But he didn't like to assume that they had the same parental problems, so he kept his mouth shut.

But he had noticed how Dean's voice had gone deeper, how his jaw tensed and his knuckles whitened and he looked so _uncomfortable_ that Cas allowed the subject change.

He was dreading going to the Roadhouse, though.

Mainly because Jo, Claire, Charlie, and even _Ash_ had been teasing him about Dean all week. Cas thought their unreasonable perceptions of Cas and Dean's interactions were... _unreasonable_. Charlie had described them as “ _a bunch of adoring, heated stares and awkward silences_ ”. They were not, she was being ridiculous.

When they walked in, Cas had never been happier to see Benny behind the bar, wiping glasses and conversing with the customers. He was the laid back kind, just out of college but with no ambition for anything other than a simple life. Cas respected that, considering Benny's past. He had joined a gang, and got in deep. He lost his girlfriend, Andrea, to a turf war, and got out immediately.

“Hey, Cassie. Long time since you've graced this dump with your presence,” Benny greeted in his gruff voice. “Who's your friend?”

Dean grinned and held out a hand. “Dean Winchester.”

Benny shook it, but his face changed, almost in recognition, as his eyes scanned Dean's face. “Benny Lafitte.”

Dean nodded and raised his eyebrows at Cas. “Word says this place has the best burgers in town.”

Benny chuckled. “I wouldn't say that. They're alright. You want one, Cas?”

Cas shook his head. “Just a water, thanks, Benny.”

Benny nodded and shuffled off to the kitchen. Cas nudged Dean and tilted his head to a table, where they sat opposite each other, Dean staring at Cas while Cas played around with his napkin.

“Benny seems like a cool guy,” Dean noted sincerely. “You come here often?”

Cas raised an eyebrow, though for once it wasn't a cheesy flirtation, but a genuine question. “Jo and Ash work here.”

Dean leaned back in his seat. “Oh right, Ellen's their mother, isn't she? What's she like?”

Cas frowned. Dean wasn't one to make small talk, not comfortably. “She's... nice. Why?”

Dean shrugged, but a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Bobby just seems real taken with her, is all.”

They sat in another few moments of silence, before Dean leaned forward, over the table, to meet Cas' eyes. “What are you going to do after school, Cas?”

“I don't know,” Cas answered honestly.

Dean's eyes widened comically. “You mean Castiel Milton _hasn't_ got his whole future planned out?” he replied in disbelief.

Cas felt his cheeks heat up. “I like to keep my options open.”

Dean nodded, tilting his head at Cas as though he was just figuring something out.

Cas cleared his throat. “What about you? Where does Dean Winchester see himself five years from now?”

Cas expected Dean to play along, to grin and make up some nonsense about being a millionaire or travelling across the country playing the banjo. He didn't expect Dean to blush and look down at the table, as if he were embarrassed.

“What?” Cas asked curiously.

Dean shrugged. “It's... Well, it's kinda stupid,” he admitted hesitantly.

“You'd make a brilliant astronaut,” Cas replied immediately.

Dean let out a surprised laugh, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Shut up.”

Cas grinned with him. “It won't be stupid. I won't laugh.”

Dean glanced at Cas, before his eyes settled on the little salt-and-pepper shakers that sat between them. “I want to be a detective.”

There was a moment of silence, where it looked like Dean was wincing, before he looked up and frowned at Cas.

Who was giving him a supportive smile. “Why would that be funny? I think you'd make an excellent detective, Dean.”

Dean's expression softened. “Well, uh...” He cleared his throat. “My dad... He wasn't too keen. He'd laugh at me.” Dean narrowed his eyes at the table. His voice was soft, and reluctant.

“Dean...” Cas trailed off, looking out the window at the passing cars. “Why did you come back to school?”

Dean lifted up his head. “What do you mean?”

Cas sighed. “I mean, you haven't attended school in about a year, but now you are. Why?”

Dean furrowed his brow. “I guess... Sam. He, uh, he looks up to me, you know? And I didn't want to disappoint him.”

“That's an honourable reason, Dean,” Cas replied, because it _was_. People looked at Dean, and they saw a kid with a leather jacket and a give-'em-hell attitude. There was so much more to him than that, Cas had noticed, and he had only known him just over a week.

“But...?”

Cas gave him a serious look. “But maybe you should find a reason for yourself.”

“I don't... What?”

Cas studied Dean, who was giving him a completely baffled look, slightly scared, slightly closed-off. Like he had never even entertained the notion of doing something for himself. It was concerning.

“If you're going to go to school, if you want to be a detective, Dean, you can do it. I _know_ you can. But only if you do it for yourself. You can't just put your life on hold for your brother.”

Dean opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Here's your burger, Dean,” said someone that wasn't Benny.

Dean glanced up and flashed a cocky grin at Jo. “Hey, Jo. Ash around?”

Jo gave Cas an amused look. “No, he's at home, playing some online game fighting mythical creatures or something. So... whatcha doing?”

Cas glared at her, but she just smiled at Dean.

Dean shrugged. “Just taking a break from studying."

"Is Cas teaching you anything good? Is he... _enlightening_ you?”

“Jo...”

Dean gave Cas a confused look. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I mean, he's a great tutor.” He flashed a real smile, and Cas found himself smiling back. 

* * *

**27 March**

* * *

 

 

Dean kicked his bedroom door open, with the intention of face-planting his bed and staying there for an eternity, but he stopped when he saw Sam sitting on his bed.

“Heya, Sammy. Can you get out of my room?”

Sam smirked at him. “No.”

Dean laughed and ruffled his hair. “Nah, what do you want?”

Sam shrugged. “You're pretty serious about graduating, aren't you?” he asked.

“Uh... yeah, I suppose I am.” Dean sat down next to him on the bed. “I am.”

Sam grinned. “That's great! I mean, seriously, I never thought you'd do it. You were always like _school is boring, school is for nerds, you got all the brains in the family, not me,_ ” he mimicked in a deep voice.

Dean nudged his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”

“Is it because Dad left us?”

Dean tensed, and looked down at his hands. “I... uh, yeah. Kinda.”

Sam was quiet for a second. “Is he going to come back?”

Dean shook his head. “Sam... Look, just focus on school at the moment, okay? We've got it good here, with Bobby. Got any friends yet?”

Sam scrunched up his nose. “Yeah. This kid called Kevin. He's cool. And, uh...” His cheeks reddened, and Dean raised an eyebrow. “There's this girl. Called Jessica. She's my friend, too.”

Dean grinned at him. “A girl? No way. Sammy has a girlfriend _already_?”

Sam shoved his shoulder. “Shut up, we're just friends.”

Dean ruffled his hair again, and Sam ducked his head away. “Look, kiddo, as long as you don't steal my car for some little late-night joyrides, I'm cool with it. Do you need the sex talk?”

Sam pulled a face. “God, no. I'm still recovering from the last one.”

“Hey!” Dean protested. My sex talks are awesome.”

“Yeah,” Sam answered. “Sure.” He glanced away, at the floor, looking awkward and uncomfortable, though it may have just been that age. “Can I... Can I sleep here tonight?”

Dean felt his whole body go cold. “Nightmares again?”

Sam nodded, and Dean closed his eyes briefly. Sam's nightmares... They were an infinite source of guilt and shame for Dean. “Sure, Sammy.”

Sam nodded, and grinned at Dean, though Dean saw through it. He knew what had caused the nightmares. It was something neither of them would ever forget, and it was like a shadow at the back of Dean's mind, constant, ever-present.

“So how's _Castiel_?” Sam asked, his eyes bright.

Dean frowned at him. “What?”

Sam laughed. “Dean, you talk about him _all the time_. I now know the exact shade of blue his eyes are thanks to you and your sonnets about his grace and beauty.”

Dean scoffed. “I don't write sonnets.”

Sam's face pulled off a look of sophisticated disbelief. “Sure, Dean. I bet if I wanted to, I'd be able to find your love letters and poetry hidden here somewhere.”

Dean cuffed the back of his head lightly and scoffed. “Well, I can give you pointers for this Jessica chick.” Sam actually looked hopeful at that, so Dean rolled his eyes and pointed to the door. “Brush your teeth, Romeo. And we're not cuddling. You're twelve, it's just weird.”

Sam poked his tongue out before trudging towards the bathroom.

That night, with Bobby's snores in the room next to his, and Sam's light huffs, Dean tried to sleep. But everytime he closed his eyes, he saw that _smile_ , Cas' smile when Dean had told him about wanting to be a detective. It was blinding, it freaked Dean out a bit.

When he was thirteen, and his dad had started dragging him and Sam along on his cases, Dean acquired a taste for the law. Like Bobby had told him once, “ _you'll either break the law, or enforce it, boy_ ”. Looking back, the amount of pride in Bobby's voice when he talked about breaking the law was unsettling.

But when Dean had told his dad, his dad frowned at him for a second, before laughing and ruffling his hair and telling him that detectives were a bunch of jerks, and that Dean actually had to graduate high school to be one anyway.

Then there was Cas, with his brilliant smile and his complete _faith_ in Dean, and it scared him, because, apart from Bobby, Dean had never really had anyone take so much interest in what he wanted to do with his life.

That kid was going to be the death of him, Dean realised. With his eyes and his smile and his subtlety, his patience while tutoring.

Sam snorted and rolled over, and Dean had to grip the comforter to keep it from sliding off him. 

* * *

 

**30 March**

* * *

 

Cas glanced up at the person who had just dropped their tray next to him.

“Hey, Cas," Dean greeted with a crooked smile.

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Hey. What are you doing here?” Dean never ate lunch in the cafeteria, and Cas understood when he witnessed five different girls approaching him in under ten minutes when he was sitting with Ash that one time.

“Sitting next to you. I thought you were meant to be smart,” Dean teased, grinning at Cas and taking a bite out of his apple.

Cas glanced around the room, before frowning back at Dean. “I'm confused.”

Dean shrugged and tilted his head so he could read the cover of Cas' book. “The Perks Of Being A Wallflower? Cute.”

Cas scrunched up his nose. “Cute?” he echoed.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, like a short person reading The Hobbit. A guy in my last school called this short girl out on reading The Hobbit, and she punched him in the stomach.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at Dean. “That sounds... disturbing.”

Dean pulled a face. “So where are your other friends? That scary blonde girl?”

Cas grinned. “Behind you.”

Dean turned his head so quickly it must've gotten whiplash, to find no one there. He glared at Cas, who smirked at him, before hunching his shoulders over his tray. “Don't be a dick, Cas. She terrifies me. She's in my trig class and sometimes she just glares at me.”

Cas shrugged. “Claire's nice.”

Dean grunted and went back to eating his lunch, a comfortable silence settling between them. Cas took a moment to observe Dean, since he hadn't seen him all day. He wasn't wearing a leather jacket today, and his flannel shirt was rolled up to expose those muscled forearms that Cas had been trying so hard to not notice.

Cas turned back to his book, feeling like his cardigan was wrapped too tightly around him, like the students were too loud and invasive, like everything was getting to be a bit much. Maybe it was his long-awaited high school mental breakdown.

Pretty soon, they were all joined by the rest of Cas' friends, who excepted Dean without batting an eyelid, though Cas got a wink from Charlie and a smirk from Jo. Ash sauntered over and ruffled Jo's hair, before sitting across from Dean. They started talking about cars and oil changes, so Cas tuned out. It was already a weird enough day.

Cas must've gotten lost in his book again, because he was startled out of it by Dean touching him gently on the shoulder. Ash was chatting animatedly with Charlie about some video game, and Jo seemed content to just lounge in her girlfriend's arms.

Dean grinned at him. “Bell's about to ring, Cas.”

Cas frowned. “You sat with us.”

Dean scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh... Is that okay? I mean, Ash wanted to hang out with Jo, and I like Charlie, she's cool. And, uh, so are you.” His grin turned shy, and he clenched his fist, like he always did when he was stuck on something when Cas tutored him.

“It's fine, Dean,” Cas assured. The guy must've never had many friends, since he was so awkward about it, which was a sad thought. “It's just that you've never sat with me – _us_ – before. It was... nice.”

Dean smiled and glanced around the table. “Do you have anything on after school?”

Cas frowned. “No. Why?”

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “Wanna hang out? I haven't had a proper tour of Sioux Falls, you know. Bobby's too busy.”

Cas wanted to decline immediately. Because spending the whole day with Dean Winchester? Cas wasn't sure if he could handle it, especially now that he was self-aware of his feelings for Dean. Because there were feelings. They may have started out with detached interest, but it morphed into something _bigger_ , the more time Cas spent with him. Dean had started to become more comfortable, losing his cockiness and being more genuine around Cas and Ash, and now, hopefully, Charlie and Jo, too.

But Dean was giving him that _look_ , with those unfairly green eyes and an exaggerated pout, and Cas nodded.

Dean grinned, and his whole face lit up. 

* * *

It wasn't a date.

No, for it to be a date, both parties would have to be aware of the fact that it was a date.

Dean twirled the flower in his hand thoughtfully, leaning against the Impala and waiting for Cas to get out of physics. No, it wasn't a date, but that didn't mean Dean wasn't going to treat it as such.

Someone cleared their throat from behind him and Dean spun around to see Sam standing there, on the other side of the Impala, his eyebrows raised.

Dean hid the flower behind his back immediately, and Sam grinned. “I guess I'm going to have to walk home, huh?”

Dean narrowed his eyes at his little brother. “Actually, yeah, you do. I'm hanging out with Cas.”

Sam sighed. “Don't worry, I won't ruin your date. Have fun, _Romeo_.”

Dean resisted the urge to poke his tongue out at Sam as he walked away, jogging a bit to catch up with some dark-haired, scrawny dude that must've been Kevin.

Dean was so busy scowling at his brother's retreating back, that he jumped the moment he heard a “Is that for me?” from behind him.

He turned to see Cas tilting his head at him, and Dean slipped a grin into place, holding out the flower. “Yep. You all set?”

Cas frowned at the flower in his hand, and then at Dean. “Uh... yeah.”

Dean could feel his smile wavering. To be honest, he actually just found it growing among a pile of weeds near his car, and picked it. It reminded him of his mother, he was pretty sure that the flower was one of many different kinds in her garden. He wasn't _intentionally_ trying to woo Cas with flowers, but if it worked, it worked.

“If you have any other music that _isn't_ classic rock, that'd be much appreciated.”

Dean pulled a face as he got in the driver's seat. “Look, don't even front, you love rock and you know it.”

Cas grinned. “Sure, _alternative_ rock maybe.”

Dean mock-gasped. “Take that back.”

After a few more minutes of banter, Cas shook his head. “You seem to know where you're going.”

“I may have lied about not having any tours. I've kinda been visiting this town since forever.” Dean smirked at Cas. “Probably know it better than you.”

“Why did you need me, then?”

Dean suppressed a sigh. “Because...” _Because I like you. Because you're funny and sweet and completely out of my league. Because you're fun to talk to and hang out with. Because you don't make me feel like shit when I'm around you._ “Because you're fun to hang out with, Cas. I like your company.”

The smile Dean got in return was small, shy, and beautiful, but Dean kept his eyes on the road.

“No one's called me _fun_ before,” Cas replied quietly.

Dean grinned. “That's because your idea of 'fun' involves reading books and studying.”

Cas scrunched up his face. “What's your idea of fun, then?”

Dean shrugged. “I guess it's the same.” He frowned. “I think you've converted me. I'm a nerd.”

Cas laughed as Dean pulled into a gravel road, which ended after a few feet in front of a small swimming hole.

“Is this the part where you strangle me and throw me in the water?” Cas teased.

Dean tilted his head at Cas. “Nah, you'd be too strong.”

Cas scoffed, and Dean raised an eyebrow. “Dude, have you seen those biceps of yours?” Because yeah, Dean may have noticed them. _May_ have.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Yeah, must be from lifting all those books.”

Dean grinned. “Nah, I just wanted somewhere to chill, have a beer or two.”

Cas frowned. “We're underage, Dean.”

“Thanks, Einstein. Don't worry, I brought Kool-Aid for you and your law-abiding. You're a slave to society, Cas.” Dean got out of the car and opened up the trunk, rifling through his cooler and bringing out two cans of Cola. He chucked one at Cas, who caught it with a little fumbling, and tilted his head to the edge of the swimming hole, where they both sat down, dangling their feet over the edge.

“You know,” Dean started, “if I wanted to kill you, I would've done I already. You make it easy, man.”

“How?” Cas asked defensively.

Dean bumped his shoulder with his own. “You keep zoning out when you read. You probably wouldn't notice you're being stabbed until the blood drips onto the book.”

Cas scrunched his nose up. “I... I really can't argue with you. Where are we, exactly?”

Dean took a sip from his can and looked down into the clear, clean water. Water that clean wasn't common, and Dean knew that if everyone knew about this place, there'd be beer cans and used condoms all of the place. “My dad... He'd drop us off at Bobby's when we were younger, too young to help him on the job. And Bobby showed us this place, where he met his wife. Told us to keep it a secret. Haven't been back here since I was thirteen, though.”

Dean could tell Cas was looking at him, but his eyes were on the water. It was calm, as usual, but not stagnant. He felt the urge to just strip and jump in, but pushed it down, saved it for when he came back with Sam.

“What does your father do?”

“He's a bounty hunter.”

There was a brief silence, before Cas said, really quietly, “He took you and Sam on jobs? That's illegal.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well, every friggin' day was bring-your-kids-to-work-day. That's uh, why I'm not too good at school. The latest case was more important.”

Cas turned his whole body to face Dean. “Is he coming back? Are you going to go with him again?”

Dean stayed silent, contemplating telling Cas about it. About what happened, the big event that changed everything. Cas had only been in his life for a little while, but Dean was good at reading people, he learnt from a very young age. And something about Cas made Dean want to trust him, made him think that Cas wouldn't let him down. Or maybe he was tired of keeping it inside all the time.

“When...” He took another breath and set his can on the ground, staring directly ahead and avoiding Cas' eyes. “We were working a case, trying to catch this dude who ran off before his court hearing. He had been charged with murder, so he was top priority. And, uh... Dad had sent me and Sam around town to ask questions, to see if we could find the guy. I took my eyes off him for one second, and Sam was gone.” Dean paused, closing his eyes at the memory. “The guy, Paul... He took Sam, kidnapped him. Used him as leverage to let him go. And my Dad refused. He tore up the town, looking for this Paul guy, but I tried to tell him. I _begged_ him, to let him go, to get Sam back. And he told me that it was my fault, that I lost Sam, and I screwed everything up.

“So I shut up, and we found Paul, with Sam tied to a chair. After that... I fought with Dad. It was a big one, and I told him we were leaving. And he just let us go. Even gave me the car, signed custodial rights over to our uncle, and if he ever comes back... I'm staying.” Dean looked over at Cas, who was watching him carefully, not with anger like John, not with pity like Bobby, but with something close to understanding, and sadness. “I'm staying here, Cas.” 

* * *

 

Cas felt the urge to reach out, to grab Dean's hand, to hug him. Cas hated displays of affection like that, but the look in Dean's eyes was a haunting reminder of what Cas had been through.

“I understand,” Cas told him simply, narrowing his eyes at the look of guilt plain on Dean's face.

“Do you?” he asked, staring down at the water.

“My family weren't... they weren't exactly functional. My dad was insane. He, uh, started this religious cult, basically. My brothers, Michael and Lucifer, were roped into it. Gabe and I... not so much. By the time I figured out I was gay,” Cas stole a glance at Dean, to gauge his reaction, but Dean just nodded, “I knew that my father wouldn't be very accepting. Gabriel knew it, too. So we reported him to the social workers. We had hoped that Gabe would be able to look after me, being eighteen, but they fostered me out to Chuck and Becky.”

“What happened to Gabriel?” Dean asked, still looking at the water.

Cas could feel himself smiling, despite the gravity of the conversation. “He's in college, studying film. We still talk.”

Dean let out a small huff of a laugh. “Looks like we both have fucked-up dads, huh?”

Cas let out a deep breath. “Well, we're both here, so we're doing something right.”

Dean tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips, and Cas had to look away from those bright green eyes before he did something stupid.

“That's a nice way of putting it, Cas,” Dean replied softly.

Cas ducked his head and peered into the water.

After that, things were different between them, and Cas couldn't tell anyone how. Maybe it was the extra stares when someone talked about Dean's family, or the supportive smiles when Claire asked about Cas' family. His friends knew, of course, but they didn't _know_. Not like Dean did.

But they never mentioned it again, they didn't need to. Cas suspected that Dean wasn't one to talk about his feelings. If Cas was being totally honest, it wasn't as though he was _uncomfortable_ , he just didn't know how to put feelings into words.

When he first met Sam Winchester, he started to piece together more of Dean.

Sam was tall, gangly, and had a crooked smile. His hair was unruly and long, and his eyes were his only resemblence to his brother, physically.

Cas could see some of Dean's mannerisms in him, though. He had muttered “ _son of a bitch_ ” when he stubbed his toe on the way to the kitchen. Their bitch faces were impressively similar, and the way they both constantly shot each other concerned looks when the other wasn't looking. Cas didn't think there was any reason, it was just second-nature to them.

“So, Cas, how do you put up with him?” Sam mumbled while drinking milk straight out of the cartoon.

Cas looked up from where he was sitting on the couch and frowned at Sam. “What?”

Dean came up behind Sam and sighed, plucking the carton out of his hands and tossing a towel in his face. “Sammy, go play with your barbies or something.”

Sam pouted. “Maybe I will,” he challenged. “It was nice meeting you, Cas,” he shot over his shoulder, but he was gone before Cas could reply.

Dean grinned at Cas. “Yeah, he's a freak,” he said fondly, sitting next to Cas on the couch. “When he was seven, he was determined to be a vampire, and he went around asking people if he could suck their blood.”

“Would've been fun at parties.”

Dean laughed and grabbed _One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest_ from the table in front of them and waved in in Cas' face. “I've finished it, by the way.”

Cas raised his eyebrows. “That's great. Now we're ready to get onto the essay questions.”

Dean tapped his fingers on the cover nervously. “Essay? I, uh... I've never written an essay before.”

Cas gently pulled the book from Dean's grasp, ignoring the irrational jump in his heartbeat when their fingers brushed. “We'll go slowly, Dean. I'm confident that you will keep up, you're doing better than I expected.”

The corner of Dean's mouth twitched in an uncertain half-smile, and Cas returned it with a full one.

“But first we should go over the key ideas and character developments, maybe write them down for future reference?”

Dean nodded. “So are we talked character developments like Bromden going from mute to a regular Chatty Cathy, or are we going to go deep? Like, Nurse Ratched's slow descent from composed to an unsteady leadership?”

Cas opened his mouth to reply when he was interrupted by an excited, “ _Oh my god_ ,”

Dean turned his head and scowled at the head that had peered around the doorway. “Sam? Go away.”

Sam grinned at Dean. “Dude, this is wonderful. Just, wait...” Sam fumbled around his pockets and took out his phone, pointing it at Dean. “Can you look thoughtful and educated?”

Cas squinted at Dean, who was giving Sam one of his more impressive bitch-faces.

The flash went off, and Sam smirked. “Okay, I'm meeting up with Jess and Kevin. Have fun, nerd.”

When Cas looked back at Dean, he was smirking at the empty doorway.

“This is a nice house,” Cas commented idly, his eyes sliding over the piles of books that covered almost every surface in the rom.

“Yeah, I thought you'd like it,” Dean said. “Bobby is really interested in the esoteric, but he has books on all kinds of things. Half of them are in some ancient, dead language. Makes me wonder why he chose to be a mechanic, you know.”

“Because I don't like to flaunt my superiority, boy,” a gruff voice spoke from behind Cas. Cas turned his head to see a older man, with a cap on, grease stained clothes and a dirty beard. “And don't start, I taught you and your brother Latin a long time ago.”

Cas turned to Dean with wide eyes. “You know _Latin_?”

Dean laughed. “Wow, Cas, you really hurt my feelings with all that disbelief and shit.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

He frowned. “Didn't I? Oh, it must've slipped my mind.”

“Has Dean been playing the idiot again?” Bobby asked, rifling through a stack of books. “This kid knows archaic Latin, Japanese, and he can rebuild a car from scratch.”

Dean's cheeks went red and he scratched at the back of his neck. “I mean, it's not-”

“You're a dick,” Cas told him.

Bobby pulled a book out from the bottom of a large pile, holding out his hands to balance it when it swayed. “I taught him how to make his own EMF meter when he was eight, and then he won the school science fair.”

Dean pulled a face. “That was a long time ago.”

“Is there anything else I should know?” Cas asked.

Dean smirked. “My real name is Donald, and I'm actually a Sagittarius.”

Cas shoved his shoulder, and let out a light laugh.

* * *

 

**12 April**

* * *

 

Dean scowled at the bookshelf, breathing in the smell of new books and trying to fend off a headache from the bright fluorescent lights of the bookstore.

“Don't overthink it, you idiot,” Charlie chirped from next to him, grabbing one of the books and flicking through it. “It's Cas. You could buy him a book on the production of shoelaces and he'd stay up all night reading it.”

“No,” Dean replied absentmindedly, “he prefers fiction.”

Charlie smirked at him. “Get him a _lurve_ story.”

Dean huffed and shoved her shoulder. “You're a geek.”

She beamed. “Look, I got you this far, but you're on your own. I'm meeting up with Jo in, like, half an hour.”

“Don't-”

Charlie held her hands up. “Don't worry, lover-boy, I won't reveal your sinister seduction plan. Adios.”

Dean turned back to the bookcase, ignoring the suspicious looks the store owner was shooting him. With his leather jacket and bloodshot eyes, he probably looked like a crack addict or something, instead of a sleep-deprived teenager.

He squinted at the book names before grabbing one impulsively, and reading the back. Which was useless, since it was just covered in reviews. The name jumped out at him, however: _The Beautiful And The Damned._

Dean shrugged and strolled up to the desk, where the old lady was still eying him up. He flashed her a cocky grin and handed her a twenty. “You can keep the change, sweetheart.” A memory came to mind, of his father saying the same thing to countless women, young and old, and his smirk faded as he walked away from the lady's disapproving glare.

Sometimes it was hard to escape the influences on him. Namely, his dad.

* * *

**13 April**

* * *

Dean caught up with Cas just before he walked in the school building, tugging on his backpack.

Cas whirled around, and he seemed to soften slightly when he saw Dean. “Hey.”

Dean grinned at him and handed him the book. “I got this for you. Don't know if you've read it.”

Cas took it and twirled it in his hands, narrowing his eyes. “Uh... No, actually, I haven't.” He looked back at Dean. “Thanks,” he said with a small smile.

Dean shrugged. He couldn't just go, _Oh hey, I bought you a book, because you like books. Wanna be my boyfriend?_

“I, um, I just thought...” Cas' eyes narrowed as they stared into Dean's, and his mind went blank. “It's for the tutoring. You're kinda, uh, doing it for free.”

Cas looked down at the book with a crease in his brow, looking almost disappointed, and uttered a small, “Oh.”

“And,” Dean added, leaning against the locker next to Cas', “Benny invited me to a party on saturday.”

“Benny?” Cas frowned. “I didn't realise-”

“Dude, those burgers are so nice, I've been going there almost every day this week.”

Cas didn't lose his frown. “You'll have a heart attack one day.”

“Look, Cas...” Dean sighed. “Can you come to the party with me?”

Cas was quiet for a moment. “I don't do parties, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, you'd rather hang out with the thoughts of long-dead writers and ponder the meaning of life.” He fixed Cas with his best puppy-dog eyes. “But I don't know anyone.”

Cas gave Dean an honest-to-god bitch-face, which should've made Dean think about what kind of influence he was on this kid. “Parties.” He said it like Dean would say “ _Kale_.”

Dean groaned. “Please? _Please?_ I am not above begging.”

Cas tried to fight off a smile, but he was failing. “Fine. But you-” He jabbed a finger in Dean's chest, “are buying me more books.”

Dean shrugged and fiddled with the straps on his backpack. “Fine,” he snarked back, smirking in victory.

Cas grabbed his arm. “Wait, Dean... Will- uh, I've never been drunk before,” he admitted.

Dean smiled reassuringly at him. “Hey, man, it's just like riding a bike. You have to find a balance.”

Cas squinted. “I don't know how to do that, either.”

Dean threw an arm around Cas' shoulder. “Look, get drunk, don't get drunk, I don't care. As long as you're there.”

They walked to class silently, until Cas turned to look at Dean. “It's also illegal. I just thought I'd point that out.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

* * *

**18 April**

* * *

Cas glanced at the clock nervously, before letting out a large groan and scratching at the back of his neck.

Jo pulled a face. “Don't be such a drama queen. And stop tugging at your hair, I styled it perfectly.”

Cas squinted in the mirror. “I look like I just woke up.”

Jo grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders, eyeing his reflection. “Yeah, in a sexy Catholic school-boy kind of way.”

Cas frowned. “Why is it such a big deal? It's just a party. There's a party every week.”

Jo shrugged. “It's Benny's party. His ones are classy. _And_ you're going with Sioux Fall's hottest commodity.”

Cas' frown frowned more. “Dean? He doesn't care about what I wear.”

Jo pinched his cheek. “Whenever you say his name you go all soft, it's cute.”

“I do not,” Cas replied defensively.

“Look, just stop playing with your hair, and go dance with your Prince Charming, _Cinderella_.”

Cas scowled. “That is not an apt comparison.”

Jo tilted her head. “Your life is a gay, male version of Cinderella.” Cas stood up as soon as he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala.

Jo frowned and combed her fingers through Cas' hair one last time, before patting him on the shoulder and shoving him towards the door. “Go get your man, princess.”

“He's not my man,” Cas protested. “He's straight, Jo.”

She gave him a condescending look. “About as straight as me, maybe.”

Cas sighed and started down the stairs, feeling ridiculous and wishing he could just wear his hoodie, because it;s not like anyone would pay him attention anyway, right?

He stopped midway, feeling someone's eyes on him, and looked up from his feet to see Dean standing in the doorway, Becky holding the door open, looking at Cas with a slightly-awed expression. Cas noted, a little bitterly, that Dean was wearing his normal clothes.

“You look... uh, you look great, Cas,” Dean said a little breathlessly. Cas tilted his head slightly, trying to figure out the look in Dean's eyes, before Jo chirped, “Is that a flower?”

Cas immediately looked to the white peony that was being twirled between Dean's fingers. He was pretty sure the O'Reilly's had a patch of peonies in their garden.

“Uh, yeah.” He held it out, and Cas trailed down the rest of the stairs and took it.

“Thanks?”

Becky grinned. “Have fun at the party,” she said cheerfully. Then she frowned. “Or don't have fun? I'm not sure if I'm meant to encourage you.”

Dean's gaze went over Cas' shoulder, and Cas turned his head just as he head Jo whisper, “ _With pliers._ ” He looked back to see Dean go pale, before tilting his head outside. Cas followed him to the Impala.

“What was that about?” he asked, settling into the seat.

Dean shrugged and started the engine up. “She just wants me to take care of you, since this is your first high school party,” he replied, flashing Cas a grin.

“I don't need babysitting.”

Dean let out a laugh. “Didn't say you do.” He glanced at Cas. “Come on, Cas, lighten up! It's a party, you're meant to be happy.”

Cas huffed. “Just make sure no one talks to me.”

Dean tried to hold it in but the laughter poured from him, and Cas found himself grinning.

When they got to Benny's house, Cas left the flower on the back seat and Dean opened his door for him. “You are so strange,” Cas mumbled, frowning at Dean. Dean just shrugged.

There was music playing when they walked in, strange music that pulsed through Cas' body and left him feeling disorientated. He never knew music could do that to someone, but then again, he'd never been to party before.

Benny was talking to this brunet girl with a large smile, but as soon as he saw Dean and Cas, he smiled and made his way towards them.

Dean and Benny did this weird hand-clasping, chest-crashing, back-slapping thing that most guys did, but when he saw Cas, he went in for a warm hug.

“Thought you'd chicken out, brother,” Benny said with a smirk.

Cas pulled a face and looked to Dean, only to see him chatting with the brunet Benny had been talking to. She breathed out a laugh and put a hand on his arm and Cas looked away, back at Benny. “So, can I get a drink?”

Benny frowned and glanced at Dean and the girl, before giving Cas a concerned look. “Sure. Coke?”

“Something stronger.”

Benny frowned but placed a bottle in Cas' hands. “You okay, man?”

Cas nodded and took a sip, wincing at the taste, when the brunet Dean was talking to turned to him. “Hey, I'm Lisa.”

“Castiel,” Cas replied, his voice a little strained from the alcohol. He probably should've checked what it was first.

Lisa grinned. “So, is this your first party?”

Cas nodded, feeling awkward and out of place, his head buzzing with the music while Dean gave him an amused look.

“Same!” Lisa said. “My boyfriend dragged me out here as well.”

Cas glanced at Dean, whose eyes had widened. “Uh... we're not, um... He's not-”

“Your boyfriend?” Lisa looked confused. “Oh. Shit. Sorry, I didn't mean to assume-”

“It's fine,” Dean cut in, flashing her a strained smile that made Cas' heart sink. Parties suck.

Dean patted Cas' shoulder while he walked past. “I've got to talk to Ben-” The music got louder and cut him off, but he yelled out something that sounded like, “-eat the brownies!”

Cas perked up. He didn't know Benny baked, but he'd read that eating eases hangovers, so he nodded to Lisa and departed in search of the brownies.

He found them a few minutes later, a large tray of them sitting on Benny's counter, half of them gone. He grabbed one of the smaller ones and bit into it. It was a little dry, but edible.

“Dude.”

Cas looked up to see Dean leaning against the doorway, a disappointed look on his face.

“What?” Cas mumbled around the mouthful of brownie.

Dean sighed and plucked the rest of it from his grasp, setting it on the counter. “I said _don't eat the brownies_ Cas. Jeez.”

Cas frowned. “I thought you said _eat_ the brownies.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “They have weed in them.”

Cas' eyes widened, and he stared at the remnants of the brownie he just ate. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Cas glanced up at Dean, squinting in the low light. “Can I have another one?”

Dean sighed. “Definitely not.” He gave Cas a once-over and frowned at the rest of the brownie. “You shouldn't be high for too long.”

“Oh god, you got me high.”

“I told you to _not_ eat the brownies, don't you blame me.”

Cas couldn't be bothered fighting the point, not when the music vibrated through the floor and into his body and made Dean fuzzy. “Why don't you have one?”

Dean shrugged. “Someone has to drive your lame ass home.” His face went white. “Becky and Chuck are going to kill me,” he groaned.

Cas giggled. “You're afraid of Chuck?” he teased.

Dean gave him a dirty look and snatched the bottle from his hands. “Dammit, Cas,” he growled. “You're a dick when you're high.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Is that... is that an insult?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I need to go to the bathroom, just- wait here, alright?”

Cas studied Dean's boots. They were combat boots. It's not like Dean was ever in combat. Maybe he knew some martial art or something, he seemed like the mysterious kind of guy that would.

“ _Cas_ ,”

Cas grunted and eyed up the rest of the brownies. He didn't know how long he had stood there, blinking at the half-eaten brownie at the counter, but he noticed when the talking stopped. The music carried on uninterrupted, but there was the distinct sound of a glass breaking.

Cas squinted at the brownie, and then glanced at the door. Except, in the kitchen, there were two, and he couldn't remember which one Dean had left out of.

And then Dean stormed through the door behind Cas and grabbed his arm, turning him around and giving him a soft look. “Hey, Cas, do you mind...” He looked away briefly, at the ground, and he looked troubled. Cas hated that look on Dean, it made him look like he'd lived through three wars. Dean took a breath. “I, uh, I have to go, and I don't really want to leave you here, like this.”

Cas nodded before he had even finished, and laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, before taking it off and rubbing his palm on his jeans. Dean was giving him a half-amused, half-concerned look.

“Sure,” Cas said. “I just... the Impala is like, a TARDIS. Can we-”

Dean shook his head. “You are so out of it.”

Cas pouted. “But it's true. It's out of... of place, and it's out of time. And _you_... You just roll in and no one knows you and you're mysterious...” Dean grabbed his hand and lead him out the other door, away from the music that pulsed through Cas' body in time with the pumping of the blood in his veins. “Not to me, though,” he said quietly.

Cold air stung Cas' face and he scrunched up his nose because it lessened the warm feeling inside him, but not by much.

Dean looked at him. “You know me?” His voice was soft and his eyes were dark, and Cas felt his mouth go dry.

He nodded, and walked down the steps, then stopped, because he didn't know where to go. “I do. I'm... I'm stoned. You got me stoned.”

Dean laughed and dragged Cas around the side of the building. “Yeah, you got yourself stoned, buddy.”

Cas pouted when they came to the Impala. “Why are we leaving?”

Dean motioned for him to get in the car and he did, clicking his seatbelt. But the noise was good, the noise was nice, so he unclicked it and clicked it again.

“Cas, stop that. Look, I just... I ran into an old friend.”

Cas looked across at Dean as he started the engine. “You don't have to tell me. If I teach myself telepathy then you would never have to. I think I might do that.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It's immoral to read people's thoughts without their permission, Cas.”

“ _Fine_. I won't read your mind.”

Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and flashed Cas a smile, which eased a little of the lines between his eyebrows.

“Am I going to have to sneak you in?”

Cas frowned. “Yeah. Becky can be terrifying.”

Dean shuddered visibly. “And Jo. Don't you dare tell her you got stoned.”

Cas mimed zipping his lips, and then tucked his hand under his thigh, because he was not a preschooler. “Hey, Dean?”

“Hm?”

“You know that fog that Bromden talks about?”

Dean nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.

“What if the nurses smoked weed in the ward and it made him paranoid?”

Dean tilted his head. “It was the sixties, Cas. That's a good guess.”

Cas leaned back in his seat and watched the houses whir by in a blur, feeling as though he were in warp-speed on a space ship and the lights in the windows of the houses were stars.

It took a few minutes for the stars to stop spinning, and then Cas' door was opening and Dean was there.

“Your eyes are tea,” Cas mumbled. He felt tired, as was expected. He wasn't that great with social gatherings.

“Okay, Cas, let's get you inside.”

Cas leaned against him. “We have to be quiet,” he whispered.

Dean opened the door and pushed Cas inside, shutting it after them. The room was dark and Cas was starting to see colours swimming in his eyes.

There was a hand at his elbow and a hand at his lower back, and even though Cas didn't need the guidance, he leaned into it, because Dean smelled like leather and his eyes looked like green tea and his freckles were pretty.

“You're pretty.”

“You're stoned. Shut up.”

Cas grinned at the blush on Dean's face, illuminated by the light at the top of the stairs.

Once they got into Cas' room, Dean guided Cas to his bed and made him sit down. “Okay, you didn't eat much, and Benny said they're pretty mild, so you should be able to wake up sober.”

Cas looked up at the ceiling while Dean took his shoes off, wondering why it was so blank. It was sad, and maybe it had something to do with Cas' personality?

“Can we buy some glow stars?”

Dean looked up at him with a confused look. “What? No.”

Cas sighed. “I like stars.”

Dean grunted. “This is not how I imagined the night to end. You getting stoned half an hour in, seeing...” Green eyes met Cas'. “Sorry, man. Your first party, and you didn't even get drunk.”

“I got high,” Cas pointed out. “It was nice, Dean.”

Dean shook his head. “I'm not taking off your jeans, so you can just sleep in them.”

Cas nodded and let Dean push his shoulders down. “You trying to get me into bed, Winchester?”

“You are _so_ high.”

Cas turned his face into the pillow as Dean tucked his comforter around him. “Why do they call it pining?”

“What?” Dean's voice was guarded and a little surprised, and Cas grinned into his pillow.

“It's just a weird word. Pining. I _pine_. I pine a lot.”

“Oh. Um.” Dean cleared his throat. “Who do you pine after?”

Cas burrowed deeper into the warmth. “I pine after unobtainable things. People. People who make me feel... more human, make me _feel_.”

Cas could feel Dean shift his weight from where he was sitting on the bed. “Maybe you shouldn't tell me stuff when you're high, Cas. You'll regret it.”

“I could never regret _you_ ,” Cas insisted, even though his voice was getting muffled by sleep. He needed to get this out, he needed to make sense of it while his head was making sense, even though everything was screwy. But Dean was _here_ , with him, and Cas couldn't find it in him to stop. “You're my best friend, Dean. You're smart, and you piss me off, but you're my best friend. You're a dick, and you make it hard... so hard to be your friend.”

The only reply he got was silence, and Cas scrunched up his face. “I mean, no, I mean... Dean Winch... Winchester makes it hard to be his friend because I want to be more than friends.”

There was a sharp inhale. “Cas?”

Cas lifted his head. “Oh, Dean. I was just talking about you. To you. You've been here all night.” Cas yawned. “Are you going to stay?”

* * *

Dean looked down at this infuriating, cute boy, who had buried himself in his bed and was smiling into his pillow, asking him if he's going to stay.

It had been a long night. Dean had put too much thought into it, because it was Cas' first party and Jo had threatened his genitals with pliers and Dean knew _no one_ in Sioux Falls. He hadn't exactly branched out further than Ash, Jo, Charlie, Claire, and Cas. Benny had invited him, and Dean wasn't going to let the opportunity pass.

But then he had seen Gordon. And Gordon had seen him. And the whole room seemed to have felt the tension in the air between them, when Gordon gave him a dirty look and threw his glass to the ground, obviously gearing for a fight.

But Dean had walked out, because Gordon was from a time of lies and murder and fathers hunting fathers across the country, and Dean had a beautiful, baked boy in the kitchen that he had to take care of and he walked out.

And here, Castiel Milton was telling him that he wanted to be _more than friends_. With _Dean_. Dean wasn't that smart but he knew there wasn't that many ways to interpret that.

Just as Dean opened his mouth to say _yes_ , _of course I'm going to say_ , his phone started ringing. He answered it immediately, before the tune could disturb Cas.

“Dean?” Sam's voice said on the other end, high and distressed.

“Sammy? What's wrong?”

Sam took a shaky breath. “Nothing. It's just...”

“Nightmares again?”

Sam let out a breathy, bitter laugh. “Yeah. Sorry, I-”

“Don't you apologise,” Dean cut in fiercely. “I'll be over in ten, okay. Wait for me. Read a book.”

He hung up and looked back at Cas. “Sorry, Cas, I can't stay.”

“Oh,” Cas mumbled. “Don't draw dicks on my face.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Okay. I'll... I'll swing by in the morning.” Cas murmured but seemed to be dead to the world, so Dean allowed himself another few moments of looking at him and thinking _He's the biggest moron I have ever met_ , before he was out the door.

When Dean got back to Bobby's, Sam was sitting, cross-legged, on Dean's bed, drinking some ilk and reading _One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest_. He looked up when Dean walked in. “So this is the book you've been bonding over?” He shrugged. “Hardly romantic.”

Dean snatched the book out of his hands. “What do you know about romance, huh? You're eight.”

“Twelve.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He sat on the bed next to Sam. “You want to talk about it?” he asked cautiously.

Sam shook his head, his jaw clenched. “No, not tonight.” If they weren't that bad, Sam would talk to Dean about them, about his nightmares that Paul had found him again, had kidnapped him, or that Paul had kidnapped _Dean_ , and somehow they always ended with John getting shot.

So Dean and Sam stayed up, most of the night, talking about little things and big things but carefully staying away from the nightmares, until that haunted look his Dean's little brother's face was replaced by exhaustion.

Sam fell asleep curled at the end of Dean's bed like a dog, and Dean took a picture with his phone, intending to use the whole thumb-sucking thing as blackmail.

Then Dean set his alarm and focused on getting a good five hours.

* * *

**19 April**

* * *

Dean stormed into Cas' room without knocking, and Cas groaned and turned so his back was to the intrusion of light.

Dean reached over Cas' bed and pulled the curtains open. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

Cas blinked up at him. “I'm hungry.”

Dean laughed and dropped a packet of doritos in Cas' lap while he struggled to sit up. “How are you feeling?”

Cas didn't bother replying, instead choosing to rip open the packet of doritos in favour of filling the hole in his stomach.

“Am I... Am I in my jeans?” he mumbled around a mouthful.

Dean shrugged innocently. “I wasn't undressing you.” That would've crossed so many lines.

Cas squinted at the alarm clock. “Dean, it's seven in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

“Sunday morning.”

“Yeah...”

Cas glared at him. “You are cruel.”

Dean grinned, his green eyes searching Cas' face, wondering when he'd remember what he had said. “Did I... call your eyes tea?”

Dean nodded. “You were so high, man.” He handed Cas a packet of oreos.

Cas reached out for it, but his hand stopped midway. “I... I told you-”

“You wanted to be more than friends, yeah,” Dean finished, his tone serious.

Cas dropped his eyes to the ground. “Right.”

Dean leaned forward, giving Cas what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I know what you're going through, Cas.”

Cas was still looking at the ground, and he didn't reply, chewing morosely on his oreos.

“You see,” Dean continued, his voice taking on that story-telling lilt, “there's this guy. And he's a great guy, and he's helped me through a lot. Whenever I'm around him I get... all nervous inside, you know? And this... this guy, he's cute, and funny, and smart as hell, but he doesn't seem to realise how much I like him. I mean, I give the guy a goddamned _flower_ like we're the love interest in a fifties romance novel, and he still doesn't get it.”

Dean frowned at Cas, who had moved on to chewing his fingernails and looking at Dean with a complicated expression on his face.

Dean sighed. “You're so fucking thick, Cas. I'm talking about _you_.”

There was a brief silence, and a sick kind of feeling started manifesting in Dean's stomach because _what if he was wrong_?

And then Cas was smiling, and it was the huge smile that Dean had only seen once before, at the swimming hole. Cas leaned forward, to hug or to kiss Dean would never know, because he immediately got tugged back down by the bed sheets that were tangled around his torso.

Dean started laughing, while Cas blushed and glared at Dean, shoving him off the bed so he could untangle himself. And once he was free, standing there, in front of Dean, he threw his arms around Dean's neck.

Dean hugged him back, Cas' warm body a comforting weight against Dean's.

“Cas?”

“Yeah?”

“You stink.”

Cas pulled back and looked at Dean, his blue eyes meeting Dean's green ones, looking down to his lips once before flushing and meeting Dean's eyes again.

Dean nodded at the silent question, and then Cas was pressing closer, his mouth against Dean's and softer than Dean could've imagined, hesitant in the way that only first kisses could be.

Dean kept it light and sweet, brushing his fingers through Cas' hair gently.

They pulled apart, and Dean couldn't tell you how long it had been, and Dean shoved Cas lightly. “Go take a shower. Becky's making pancakes.”

Cas gave him another blinding smile. “What if I want to do more of that?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

Cas' stomach growled and Dean raised his own eyebrows. “I'd say you should eat first.”

Cas muttered something under his breath and bumped shoulders with Dean as he walked past. Dean trailed behind him, for some reason unable to keep the dopey grin off his face.

Cas paused at the top of the stairs, his shirt rumpled and his hair deliciously wild in a way that made Dean want to tug it. He tilted his head and stiffened. “Balthazar.”

Dean frowned. “Your foster brother?” He could hear a distinct male voice from downstairs, a peculiar British accent.

Cas trudged down the stairs reluctantly, and when they both entered the kitchen, there was a guy there, wearing a blazer over a questionable v-neck.

“Cas, it's so good to see you,” Balthazar drawled. He made no move to hug Cas, and neither did Cas. He just crossed his arms and glared at Balthazar.

“What are you doing here?”

Becky gave Cas a stern look, and smiled at Dean, handing him a plate of pancakes.

“Cambridge is dreadfully dull, I thought I'd come back. Regretting it already.” Balthazar turned to look at Dean, who had sat down with some pancakes. “And who is this?”

Dean chewed on his pancakes and glanced at Cas, who sighed. “This is Dean, my-”

“Boyfriend,” Dean cut in, quickly swallowing his mouthful and wincing. “I, uh, mean, boyfriend?”

Cas gave him a soft look. “Yeah?”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Spare me the American romance, Cassie.”

Cas scowled. “ _You're_ American.”

Balthazar shrugged, and Dean glanced at Becky. “Are they always like this?” he asked her.

She patted his cheek. “Yeah, it's great. Feels like a real family, you know? Especially now that you're part of it.”

“Becky,” Cas groaned. “We're not getting married.”

“Autumn weddings are lovely for gay couples,” Balthazar noted. “I love autumn weddings.”

Becky scrunched up her face. “I like the spring ones, myself.”

“Who's talking about weddings? Is that why you're back, Balthazar?” Chuck asked, walking in and nervously wringing his hands.”

Balthazar waved a hand. “Castiel got himself tied down to this guy,” he said, tilting his head at Dean. Dean just kept his head down and ate his breakfast, glaring at Cas when he tried to steal a pancake.

“Really?” Chuck asked disinterestedly. “Good for them. Becks, where's my laptop?”

Becky froze, and shot Cas a panicked look. “Your laptop?” she echoed.

Chuck glanced at the ground and nodded. “Uh, yeah, I was just... writing is _hard_ , you know, but-”

“But you want to try again?!” Becky squealed, dropping her spatula in the frying pan and throwing her arms around Chuck's neck, peppering his face with kisses. Balthazar sighed heavily, and Cas rolled his eyes, taking another pancake from Dean.

Chuck smiled and pulled away, looking around the table. “Oh, hey Dean. So, my laptop?”

Becky grinned and pulled Chuck from the room, and Cas stood up immediately and started on flipping the pancakes before they burned, like his foster mother sqawking like a madwoman and abandoning her cooking was a common occurrence.

Balthazar leaned forward. “So, Dean...” Dean tensed. He was not prepared for this, was not prepared for family confrontations with some weird-as Brit dude. “What's your deal then, Dean?”

“My deal?” Dean repeated, trying to maintain eye contact with those cold blue eyes.

“Well, you see, Cas is about as interesting as drying paint, so I can't see how he won you at the county fair.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Wow. You are a dick.”

“It's been said,” Balthazar replied.

Dean leaned forward, until he was looking Balthazar directly in the eye. “I _wooed_ him. Gave him a flower and everything. We spend hours just _talking_. It's amazing. The only dull thing about him is his foster brother.”

Cas burst out laughing and Dean sat back with a satisfied smirk, while Balthazar tilted his head. “That's disgusting.” He pulled a face and gestured between Dean and Cas. “You guys are leaking your feelings everywhere, it's revolting, keep it away from me.”

Cas dumped a pancake on his foster brother's plate and gave him one of his small, sarcastic smiles (if smiles could be sarcastic). “I suggest you learn to live with it, if Cambridge bores you so much. How long are you gracing us with your presence?”

“I don't know. A week? I'd prefer it if mother didn't want to spend the whole time _family bonding_ , but you know how she is. Hopefully, you can ruin it by spending an unnecessary amount of time glued to your boy toy's side.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, you came here for the burger's, not the family,” he droned, as though he had heard it all before.

Balthazar smirked. “So, Dean, do you have any family?”

Dean took a sip of the glass of water in front of him, contemplating how to answer the question. “Just my uncle Bobby and my little brother,” he replied carefully.

Balthazar hummed thoughtfully. “Bobby Singer?”

“Yeah. You know him?”

“He has to be the only one in this god forsaken town with any brains. And on that note, I must leave you two in pursuit of an American hotdog and something other than tea.”

Balthazar left, leaving Dean squinting at his empty seat while Cas devoured the large stack of pancakes he had made himself. “He's... something.”

Cas gave Dean a small smile and sighed. “Compared to my... my _real_ brother's, he's a gift from the heavens.”

“Just because you're blood, doesn't mean you're family,” Dean replied softly, looking down at his hands.

Cas reached over and took one, turning it over and tracing the lines of Dean's bones with his fingertips. “Are you... I mean, you don't find me dull?”

Dean let out a light laugh. “Cas, you're the most interesting person I know. I noticed you, from the moment I walked into that classroom. You're the furthest thing from 'dull'.”

Cas shook his head, staring at Dean in what had to be a mixture of amusement and awe. “I can't believe you've been 'wooing' me, Dean Winchester.”

Dean reached a finger up to trace Cas' jaw. “I can't believe you didn't realise. Cas, I bought you a _book_. I gave you _flowers._ ”

Cas copied Dean, tracing his jaw, and Dean turned his cheek into his palm, closing his eyes and just living in the moment where he got to have _this_ , instead of some cheap hook-up after a high school party. He had _Cas_ , and he had nerdy discussions about books and movies, and talks about the universe and the meaning of life and their favourite pizza toppings. Cas getting confused about social norms and that little surprised laugh, how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.

“ _Aw,_ ” someone breathed, and Dean opened his eyes and jerked back to see Becky standing there, a fond expression on her face. “I could totally tell you guys were going to get together!" 

**Author's Note:**

> So this... This took me a while. I am so happy that I actually _finished_ it, because I was scared there for a while. I mean, this is the longest I've spent on anything less than four chapters.  
>  The quote at the start related to Dean and how he had to charm and con for his dad to get info for bounty hunts, you know? There are a shitload of quotes from that book that I could've used, but I liked that one.  
> I really, _really_ hope that you liked this fic, because I write it for the fandom. So, uh, leave comments and tell me what you think!  
> [My tumblr btw](http://unadulterated-exasperation.tumblr.com/)


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